-Excerpt from the Kensington Papers, approx. November 1926
[At the time that Jonah Kensington (Editor, Prospero Books) penned this missive, he had returned from a four month investigation into the L'Amour Affair. He documented his efforts at length, including the extensive steps to ensure that he was investigating the L'Amour Affair, not the Carlysle Expedition or any of the nefarious interests stirred up by the events of 1925.]
...While the court case itself was well documented, both in Africa and at home, my labors were focused on the aftermath. That said, the resolution of the trial was pivotal in setting the stage for the actress' final dramatic turn.
Much as the newspapers downplay it, one must remember that Miss L'Amour was not alone in the dock in the decrepit Nairobi courthouse. Though some of her compatriots escaped, fleeing to Australia and their own misadventure there, in court, she was one of three defendents, together with Declan Ryan, an Irish musician (and notorious alcoholic) and the drifter Corey Schwartz.
The drifter, having spent the least time associated with the group, and also evidently not possessed of sound mind, was subject to the most cursory of proceedings. He was summarily exiled from Kenya, on the expectation he would return to New York City and institutionalization. Had he access to wealth, this might have happened. Instead, he spent six months throwing himself on the mercies of many a sea captain, only to learn that that particular profession has very short shrift for mercy.
By the time he reached Tangiers, he was crippled by opium, insensate, and totally insane. He died there. While there was no formal death certificate or autopsy, it would appear that he succumbed to the ravages of syphilis. No doubt this was masked by his already tenuous grasp on reality.
I admit that I shed a tear for the man, and feel no shame for the admission, even if I am alone in so doing. I knew the man for well over a decade, back when he was an aspiring and curious folklorist. Though there was no way to know the ultimate results of so disastrous an encounter, it was I who introduced him to Jackson Elias. The pairing was fortuitous and profitable...for a while. Elias and I covered for Schwartz's collapsing psyche as long as we could. I think it fair to say that it was our intervention that ensured that his mental condition did not result in physical harm to himself or others, for all the good it did either man in the end.
Both L'Amour and the Irishman bore the full brunt of all the charges, spanning three continents. While I concede I was not there in person, the court transcripts suggest it was very much a drumhead trial, their guilty verdicts assured.
Mercy of a sort was apparent in the sentencing - maybe being the subject of international scrutiny chastened his honor from delivering the hangings he so eagerly sought. Instead, he provided both with life sentences including hard labor.
In accordance with Government Notice 184, this meant that Mr Ryan would be detained at First Class Prison Nairobi (its name, not a reflection on its quality), whereas Lily L'Amour would be resettled at First Class Prison Mombasa. While the Kenyan Government would firmly deny the accusation, this was tantamount to selling the actress into slavery, a nuance not missed by the defendants themselves.
From this point on, facts run light on the ground. There are many stories, however, and I beg the reader's indulgence in my choosing, perhaps, the most dramatic, and indeed, romantic, recounting.
After sentencing, the pair were left in a holding cell, pending transportation. It is important to remember at this juncture that the Irishman had been no friend to the Temperance Movement. Rather, his Bacchanalian efforts had been so vast that the enforced sobriety imposed on him by the court proceedings had utterly broken him. He sniveled and mewled, sweated incessantly, his skin broke out into rash-like red blotches, he was crippled by the shakes, and so forth. He was quite literally ruined by the drink, or at least, its absence.
In spite of this handicap, or possibly because of it, he hatched a desperate plan. In the small hours of the night, when guards returned to transport the convicts to their new homes. As soon as the lock's tumblers clicked open, the Irishman flung himself bodily at the door, weaponizing it. The guard on the other side was knocked clean out as the door smashed into his head. The pair of desperadoes made quick work of overpowering his surprised compatriot. They gathered up the guards' sidearms and fled the court, absconding in the same carriage intended to take them to their prisons.
Instead, they fled Nairobi into the surrounding scrublands and disappeared into the hinterlands, for a time. Only a time however; their international status was an assurance that Kenyan law enforcement would never give up on them.
Thus it was that a militia force encroached on a small shack in a quiet glade. They were not as quiet and subtle as they thought though. As they closed on the shack, the pair of criminals came charging out of the building, firearms blazing.
By all accounts, it was akin to the last stand of Butch Cassidy, or some other great outlaw of the West. The pair knew that escape was not an option, and sought only glory and a quick merciful death.
Again, to reiterate, this is only an unconfirmed tale told by the locals, one of many. The only thing we will ever know for sure was that neither Mr Ryan nor Miss L'Amour ever reached their intended prisons.
Monday, March 21, 2016
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Brock's History of the Prohibition: Chapter 3 - Other New York Notables (3rd Ed, pages 69ff)
One of the more flamboyant entries into the New York City scene was the Carolinian, Jonny Di Castillo. His involvement in bootlegging was comparatively shortlived, but the mystery and intrigue surrounding him is unmatched.
While he affected an Italian name and went to great pains to imply that he was a Made Man, the truth was revealed to all and sundry in the dawn of 1925 when his young cousin, Freddie McIntyre, came to town. Rather than being embarrassed by the Irish reveal, however, Di Castillo took it in his stride. None dated challenge him on it, though he never again alluded to the Mob.
From the outset, his motivations in bootlegging were clear - while he had access to some of the finest product available (and on that basis, was highly sought after as a supplier) he never pursued the career fulltime. He spent at least as much time carousing in the finest establishments and socializing with the City's elite as he did providing hooch. For the most part, these connections served him well: he spent several months cavorting with the daughter of a newspaper magnate; twice he was busted by the Police (on both occasions, his connections saw to it that the charges disappeared); he was invited to all the best parties, as a guest; and so on.
However, it was the same social aspect that led to his troubles and his eventual disappearance. Early on in his time in the City, he befriended an investigative journalist, Alice Spriggs. Indeed, rumor held that he was her lead for her expose of Mayor John Hylan While none of the allegations ever reached the stage of prosecution, none doubted that it contributed to his failure to obtain renomination in 1925.
In this same period, his connections with the party crowd tied him to the silent movie actress Lily L'Amour, who subsequently achieved significant notoriety in what became known as the L'Amour Affair. While Di Castillo was indisputably involved, his disappearance predates that venture's demise in Nairobi, Kenya.
It is unclear whether it was L'Amour or Spriggs who embroiled Di Castillo in the L'Amour Affair. As with so many other details of that escapade, the specifics are lost to history.
In piecing together what is known about the L'Amour Affair, from the collated court documents presented in Nairobi, from the medical transcripts of Freddy McIntyre, and from the personal papers of Jonah Kensington, the editor of Prospero Books and apparent backer of the L'Amour Affair's expedition, we can draw some conclusions about Di Castillo's movements in 1925.
Of the three sources available, the Kensington Papers are the most revealing, though they are also the most incriminating. They are relied on most heavily of the three, as they do include telegrams from Spriggs documenting the group's travels, and also the results of Kensington's own much later investigations.
On the formation of the core members of the Affair, a crime spree was embarked upon across New York City. This included the bloody and brutal murders of several African Americans in a Brooklyn hotel, burglary from a Harlem curios shop, the interrogation of a Professor of the Antiquities, and significant periods of public drunkenness.
Thereafter, the story becomes more grandiose. The expedition relocated to London, and under the pretext of investigating the Carlysle Expedition of 1920, or an Egyptological cult (the records show the group's motives vacillating between these two causes), the group is, at least, connected to: the Savoy fire, a major train derailment, two arsons in a country town, a car crash in Lesser Edale, a break-and-enter at the Penhew Foundation, and what appears to be a racially motivated incursion into an Egyptian Gentlemens Club of good standing.
These deeds behind them, the group moved on to Cairo. Their time in Egypt does not seem to be quite so criminal, though this may simply be a failure of adequate record keeping. Nonetheless, there were two significant events documented:
Firstly, the party visited the Bent Pyramid. The Kensington Papers make reference to an entirely undiscovered antechamber in the pyramid, housing some sort of Pharaonic automaton. By the time the group left the pyramid, some traumatic experience broke Freddy McIntyre's young mind and led to Di Castillo organizing the transit of his newly-catatonic cousin back to New York, to be admitted to the city's psychiatric institution.
The second event is more relevant for this narrative. It is only documented in the Kensington Papers, however, so it is not considered verified by any means.
According to those documents, the group found a network of secret tunnels under the Great Sphinx. In these tunnels, the group allegedly thwarted some dark cult ritual (by means of the cold blooded murder of an elderly woman). In so doing, they needed to cross a chasm, and having assured the safe passage of his colleagues, Di Castillo apparently fell to his death.
All we can ever know for sure is that Di Castillo disappeared in Egypt. Given the quality of the company he kept, the capacity for foul play by his associates can never really be ruled out.
Suffice to say, few others involved in bootlegging have a tale that can even hold a candle to that of Jonny Di Castillo.
While he affected an Italian name and went to great pains to imply that he was a Made Man, the truth was revealed to all and sundry in the dawn of 1925 when his young cousin, Freddie McIntyre, came to town. Rather than being embarrassed by the Irish reveal, however, Di Castillo took it in his stride. None dated challenge him on it, though he never again alluded to the Mob.
From the outset, his motivations in bootlegging were clear - while he had access to some of the finest product available (and on that basis, was highly sought after as a supplier) he never pursued the career fulltime. He spent at least as much time carousing in the finest establishments and socializing with the City's elite as he did providing hooch. For the most part, these connections served him well: he spent several months cavorting with the daughter of a newspaper magnate; twice he was busted by the Police (on both occasions, his connections saw to it that the charges disappeared); he was invited to all the best parties, as a guest; and so on.
However, it was the same social aspect that led to his troubles and his eventual disappearance. Early on in his time in the City, he befriended an investigative journalist, Alice Spriggs. Indeed, rumor held that he was her lead for her expose of Mayor John Hylan While none of the allegations ever reached the stage of prosecution, none doubted that it contributed to his failure to obtain renomination in 1925.
In this same period, his connections with the party crowd tied him to the silent movie actress Lily L'Amour, who subsequently achieved significant notoriety in what became known as the L'Amour Affair. While Di Castillo was indisputably involved, his disappearance predates that venture's demise in Nairobi, Kenya.
It is unclear whether it was L'Amour or Spriggs who embroiled Di Castillo in the L'Amour Affair. As with so many other details of that escapade, the specifics are lost to history.
In piecing together what is known about the L'Amour Affair, from the collated court documents presented in Nairobi, from the medical transcripts of Freddy McIntyre, and from the personal papers of Jonah Kensington, the editor of Prospero Books and apparent backer of the L'Amour Affair's expedition, we can draw some conclusions about Di Castillo's movements in 1925.
Of the three sources available, the Kensington Papers are the most revealing, though they are also the most incriminating. They are relied on most heavily of the three, as they do include telegrams from Spriggs documenting the group's travels, and also the results of Kensington's own much later investigations.
On the formation of the core members of the Affair, a crime spree was embarked upon across New York City. This included the bloody and brutal murders of several African Americans in a Brooklyn hotel, burglary from a Harlem curios shop, the interrogation of a Professor of the Antiquities, and significant periods of public drunkenness.
Thereafter, the story becomes more grandiose. The expedition relocated to London, and under the pretext of investigating the Carlysle Expedition of 1920, or an Egyptological cult (the records show the group's motives vacillating between these two causes), the group is, at least, connected to: the Savoy fire, a major train derailment, two arsons in a country town, a car crash in Lesser Edale, a break-and-enter at the Penhew Foundation, and what appears to be a racially motivated incursion into an Egyptian Gentlemens Club of good standing.
These deeds behind them, the group moved on to Cairo. Their time in Egypt does not seem to be quite so criminal, though this may simply be a failure of adequate record keeping. Nonetheless, there were two significant events documented:
Firstly, the party visited the Bent Pyramid. The Kensington Papers make reference to an entirely undiscovered antechamber in the pyramid, housing some sort of Pharaonic automaton. By the time the group left the pyramid, some traumatic experience broke Freddy McIntyre's young mind and led to Di Castillo organizing the transit of his newly-catatonic cousin back to New York, to be admitted to the city's psychiatric institution.
The second event is more relevant for this narrative. It is only documented in the Kensington Papers, however, so it is not considered verified by any means.
According to those documents, the group found a network of secret tunnels under the Great Sphinx. In these tunnels, the group allegedly thwarted some dark cult ritual (by means of the cold blooded murder of an elderly woman). In so doing, they needed to cross a chasm, and having assured the safe passage of his colleagues, Di Castillo apparently fell to his death.
All we can ever know for sure is that Di Castillo disappeared in Egypt. Given the quality of the company he kept, the capacity for foul play by his associates can never really be ruled out.
Suffice to say, few others involved in bootlegging have a tale that can even hold a candle to that of Jonny Di Castillo.
Medical Case History - Patient Frederick McIntyre
Caucasian; Male; 24 years old; Baptist
Attending - Doctor Christopher C Moresby
The subject was admitted directly to the New York State Psychiatric Institute on February 27, 1925. He was delivered from the docks in a mobile, but otherwise catatonic state. Prior to his overseas travels, his medical and academic records present no causal symptoms for his condition. Rather, it is indicated that he was exposed to one or several traumatic events during his travels.
My researches into his foreign travels, while not conclusive, do indicate that he was associating with known dangerous criminal elements, including but not limited to known bootlegger Jonny Di Castillo and members of the L'Amour gang (prior to their subsequent incarceration in Nairobi, Kenya).
Unfortunately, as none of his companions managed to return to civilized climes, the full detail of the subject's experiences will never be known. To date, the only commentary ever obtained was a tearful testimony from Ms L'Amour about how the subject deserved so much more. She and one of her incarcerated colleagues, an alcoholic Irishman, have made oblique references to a pyramid, a statue and some sort of illusion.
For the first six months of the subject's sojourn at the institute, his condition remained largely unchanged. Therapy was entirely ineffective. Attempts were made to apply electro-shock therapy. Initially these treatments appeared successful in alleviating the subject's catatonia. While it did not restore him to wellness, he was ambulatory and capable of speech, and, in the most limited capacity, conversation.
By October 1925, these treatments were ceased in the hope that he might now see results from traditional therapy. Said therapy was far more successful than previous efforts and by Christmas that year, it appeared that the subject might be discharged at some point in the new year.
On 12 January 1926, as part of general therapy for the subject and a dozen other patients that the Institute hoped to soon discharge, an outing was organised to the Museum of the City of New York. A substantial Egyptological exhibit was on loan from the British Museum.
For most of the patients, this excursion was a positive experience. For the subject however, it appeared to do significant harm. All reports indicate that a short way into the tour, he espied a statue of a Pharaoh. Unlike the other statuary present, this particular carving was pitch-black. There was no identification of the Pharaoh, but it captured the subject, such that he remained transfixed there and had to be manhandled away when the group departed.
By the time they returned to the Institute, the subject was once again near catatonic, but muttering to himself. No-one managed to identify what he was saying in full, but it intended in "-ho-tep" so it was clearly influenced by the events of the day.
During the night, the subject erupted into a psychotic fit, in which he fatally assaulted another patient in a most brutal fashion, as well as maiming an orderly so severely the man will limp for the rest of his life.
The subject was placed in a restraining jacket, in a protective cell. Each night, he became possessed of the same psychotic rage. It quickly became evident that the only appropriate clinical measure available to ensure his ongoing docility was a lobotomy.
On 12 February 1926, I carried out the procedure. The procedure itself was uneventful and the subject was safe and calm. So much so, in fact, that after the procedure, his subsequent monitoring was marked with a lack of vigilance. On 19 February 1926, after lights out, the subject snuck out into the Institute's gardens.
For those unfamiliar with the significance of this date, know that a fierce snowstorm hit the city that night.
The subject, Freddy McIntyre, was found the following morning, frozen stiff. Dead from exposure. His bearing, however, was one of sublime peace and happiness. Indeed, his face held a beatific smile, unlike any seen in his time with the Institute, as if finally, in death, all of his worries were resolved and gone.
Attending - Doctor Christopher C Moresby
The subject was admitted directly to the New York State Psychiatric Institute on February 27, 1925. He was delivered from the docks in a mobile, but otherwise catatonic state. Prior to his overseas travels, his medical and academic records present no causal symptoms for his condition. Rather, it is indicated that he was exposed to one or several traumatic events during his travels.
My researches into his foreign travels, while not conclusive, do indicate that he was associating with known dangerous criminal elements, including but not limited to known bootlegger Jonny Di Castillo and members of the L'Amour gang (prior to their subsequent incarceration in Nairobi, Kenya).
Unfortunately, as none of his companions managed to return to civilized climes, the full detail of the subject's experiences will never be known. To date, the only commentary ever obtained was a tearful testimony from Ms L'Amour about how the subject deserved so much more. She and one of her incarcerated colleagues, an alcoholic Irishman, have made oblique references to a pyramid, a statue and some sort of illusion.
For the first six months of the subject's sojourn at the institute, his condition remained largely unchanged. Therapy was entirely ineffective. Attempts were made to apply electro-shock therapy. Initially these treatments appeared successful in alleviating the subject's catatonia. While it did not restore him to wellness, he was ambulatory and capable of speech, and, in the most limited capacity, conversation.
By October 1925, these treatments were ceased in the hope that he might now see results from traditional therapy. Said therapy was far more successful than previous efforts and by Christmas that year, it appeared that the subject might be discharged at some point in the new year.
On 12 January 1926, as part of general therapy for the subject and a dozen other patients that the Institute hoped to soon discharge, an outing was organised to the Museum of the City of New York. A substantial Egyptological exhibit was on loan from the British Museum.
For most of the patients, this excursion was a positive experience. For the subject however, it appeared to do significant harm. All reports indicate that a short way into the tour, he espied a statue of a Pharaoh. Unlike the other statuary present, this particular carving was pitch-black. There was no identification of the Pharaoh, but it captured the subject, such that he remained transfixed there and had to be manhandled away when the group departed.
By the time they returned to the Institute, the subject was once again near catatonic, but muttering to himself. No-one managed to identify what he was saying in full, but it intended in "-ho-tep" so it was clearly influenced by the events of the day.
During the night, the subject erupted into a psychotic fit, in which he fatally assaulted another patient in a most brutal fashion, as well as maiming an orderly so severely the man will limp for the rest of his life.
The subject was placed in a restraining jacket, in a protective cell. Each night, he became possessed of the same psychotic rage. It quickly became evident that the only appropriate clinical measure available to ensure his ongoing docility was a lobotomy.
On 12 February 1926, I carried out the procedure. The procedure itself was uneventful and the subject was safe and calm. So much so, in fact, that after the procedure, his subsequent monitoring was marked with a lack of vigilance. On 19 February 1926, after lights out, the subject snuck out into the Institute's gardens.
For those unfamiliar with the significance of this date, know that a fierce snowstorm hit the city that night.
The subject, Freddy McIntyre, was found the following morning, frozen stiff. Dead from exposure. His bearing, however, was one of sublime peace and happiness. Indeed, his face held a beatific smile, unlike any seen in his time with the Institute, as if finally, in death, all of his worries were resolved and gone.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
The Masks of Nyalathotep Postscripts
The next few posts are postscripts about the characters from our recent Masks of Nyarlathotep campaign that ended in failure.
The Obligatory Intro Post and Statement of Intent
This blog exists for me to post writing that I want to share.
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Everything posted belongs to me.
Anything posted is free. Enjoy. Feel free to provide feedback.
Everything posted belongs to me.
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